Candle In The Dark
by Death-Note-Fan89
Summary: Even when all seems lost, there is always hope. You just have to find it. AU, dark themes, a little graphic and may be triggering. Pairings are going to be a surprise. :) Oh, and there is an OC. Don't like OCs? Don't read then. Thank you!
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so, I've been working on this fanfiction. It's incomplete, but I haven't given up on it, and I'll post at least a chapter a week, I swear. I'm already on chapter 9, and I have most if not all of the plot worked out! :D**

**So, anyways, there are a variety of arcs in this, following different characters. It starts with a (brief) introductory arc. And yes, there is an OC, don't kill me. If you hate OCs, or hate this one, then just stop reading, ok? Ok.**

**PS, this is semi-graphic, and includes abuse, self harm and suicidal themes. If you may be triggered, please be warned.**

Chapter 01: Hunger That Claims You

Feliks tapped his foot, trying to focus on the lesson. On what the teacher was saying. It was difficult, though...his head hurt from hunger. He hadn't eaten since the night before. All he had eaten yesterday was a sandwich. He sighs, and turns to his friend, Toris. His only friend. The one who stuck by him when he turned up to school that day in a mini skirt. The one who stuck up for him. The one who didn't call him names, and didn't think he was fat. Feliks sighs again, then looks up as the door opens, quite loudly. A girl enters, a wide grin on her face. She was pretty, with short auburn hair, wide brown eyes and pale skin.

She was new, and waved to the class as she skipped over to the teacher. The teacher said something to her that the rest of the class couldn't hear. Then the teacher turned to the class and said, "this is Maia. She's a new student here, so be nice." Maia grins again, looks around, then sits at the desk next to Feliks. He turns to look at the cheerful new girl. Up close, you could see dark circles under her eyes, and scabs on her hands. She didn't seem to care though. "Right. I want us to get on with our projects. Maia, join a group," says the teacher.

The class begins to spring into action, slowly but surely. "Hey, can I join your group?" Feliks blinks in surprise as Maia grins at him. "Uh...sure! Like, totally. I'm with Eduard, Raivis and Liet...I mean, Toris!" The words were rushed and fell out of his mouth. Then he looks away, embarrassed. He wasn't good with strangers. However, Maia took it in her stride. "He has a nickname? Cool! By the way, what's your name?" the words fell from her mouth too quickly. They were rushed, as if urgent. "I'm Feliks. Nice to, like, meet you." Maia winks. "Totally."

The project was simple enough, just a project on mental health, but Maia was keen. "We should include a bit of music-wait, are we presenting this? Awesome! Yeah...music will be great! And we can cover different topics and stuff..." she continues to ramble, unaware of Raivis' increasing discomfort, and Eduard's loss of leadership. "Like, that's a cool idea," points out Feliks, as she runs through a list of things to do. "I think...it's a bit much, don't you think?" Toris half whispers. "Speak up. It's fine. I can run it all through and have it done in a week," says Maia cheerfully. "A week?! Maia, I really don't think-" the bell rings, cutting Eduard off.

Maia was out of the door like a monster was after her. Eduard sighs. "I appreciate her enthusiasm...but must she be so over the top?" he mutters, pulling it all together. Feliks shrugs, flinching as his stomach groans. He sighs. Maybe it was time to eat? No...no, he couldn't. He wouldn't. Noticing the concerned look from Toris, he grabs his bag and runs out the classroom. He had art next. At least he could use that as an excuse. He liked art. It was a small class, but a nice class nonetheless. His teacher left them to their own devices. So long as they had a project with a theme, it was fine.

He found his sketchbook, and sat down to draw. "Hey there! I didn't know you were in this class too!" Feliks looks up to see Maia. She grins, taking the seat next to him. Opposite sat the Italian twins, Lovino and Feliciano. Feliciano was painting an angel, whilst Lovino did an angry ink drawing. "Oh...uh..." Feliks stumbled for words. Maia smiles. "Heh...sorry. I'll let you get on with your work." She bows her head, her hair falling over her sketchbook, blocking it from sight. Feliks sighs, and begins to draw an bowl of fruit. Food felt like an obsession these days. But eating it...? No. He couldn't do that.

He didn't see Maia again until lunch. Toris sat with some others at lunch, and Feliks sat alone. On the off chance that he ate, he didn't want anyone to see. As a result, he sat out near a tall, wilted tree, by a dustbin, debating on whether to eat the slice of low fat cheese. "Is that all you're having for lunch?" He looks up, recognising the voice. A set of tired brown eyes looked down on him. "I've eaten most of my lunch." It was a lie. Maia raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question it. Instead, she sits next to him, eating her own lunch silently. "How come you're here?" asks Feliks, deciding against eating the cheese. "Here?" repeats Maia, "everywhere else had too many people."

He nods, understanding. She sighs, finishing off her lunch. "This school...uh...seems interesting," she comments. Unlike earlier, her voice was softer, with hints of exhaustion. "...I guess," mumbles Feliks. She smiles, "I'll be right back. Make sure you eat that cheese." She gets up, leaving her bag behind. Feliks blinks, his stomach rumbling. Well...cheese would be nice...no...no, he couldn't...but he was so hungry...no! He shoved the cheese into the bin. He sighs, heart racing. No. He wasn't going to eat. Even a small bit of cheese. It was too much. He wasn't going to. Feliks sighs again, looking up at the tree.

"Did you see it?" He jumps. "Agh! You totally need to be louder! You're, like, creepy!" yells Feliks, as Maia chuckles. "Sorry. But really...do you see it?" she asks. Feliks frowns. "Uh...like, see what?" he asks, confused. Maia smiles, "everything has a secret. You'll see it too someday." Feliks pulls a face. "I hate secrets...hey, are you ok? Your face looks a bit..." Like you've been crying. Maia scowls, looking away. "I'm fine!" she half snaps, then sighs, "just...uh...missing my old school, you know?" Feliks flinches. "Oh...yeah. I get what you mean..."

They sat in silence for a moment before Maia suddenly says, "hey, want to play tag?" Feliks blinks. "...Tag?" he repeats, "like, that's a kid game..." Maia grins. "It's fun! Come on! Please?" she half begs, grabbing his hand. He sighs, then smiles. "Like, totally! You're it!" he gets up and runs. "No fair!" yells Maia, but she runs after him laughing.

It was like nothing was wrong.

**Yeah, the chapters are short (well, for me they're short) but I hope you enjoyed it! I shall post the next chapter today as well, and then the updates shall be more steady.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Ok, so here's another chapter. Please enjoy! Little graphic, so be warned…**

**Oh, and go read Self-Destruction. I think it's been paused for a bit, but the bits up so far are good. It inspired my story, but I'm desperately hoping mine is original enough that people don't mind so much…**

Chapter 02: Things You Don't See

A few weeks had passed, and there was no question on Maia's place in the school. By joining Feliks, by doing art, by talking to those labelled "freaks", she had set herself up for bullying. And by letting Tyler know that yes, she swung both ways, so to speak, the bullying began. "Like, you know they're all idiots," insists Feliks, "let's see your arm..." Maia quickly pulls her arm away. "It's fine. Just a bruise," she mutters, "and yeah, they're all jerks. They were making fun of Arthur the other day as well!" Feliks nods, well aware of the situation. The majority of those who took art were bullied. It wasn't clear why. Except that they were different. By choosing art...they made themselves different.

You couldn't see the difference. It was stupid. And yet, taking art seemed to imply you were somehow...less normal. Feliks sighs, watching Arthur stare into space, eyes glossing over. Of course, in some cases...they weren't normal. But that was no reason for the bullying.

"Flying Mint Bunny!" Arthur calls, smiling at the flying green rabbit, "I'm so glad to see you! This place is so dull and I missed you..." Flying Mint Bunny smiles at him. "I missed you too, Artie! So I flew right over~" Arthur blushes slightly. "Oh...you didn't have to..." he mumbles, and Flying Mint Bunny smiles. "Well...I have to go! See ya later, Artie!" it calls. Arthur frowns. "Wait...no, don't go!" he shouts, "hey!" Flying Mint Bunny begins to fade away, like a hologram. "Hey!" yells Arthur again, unaware of the people staring at him until Flying Mint Bunny completely fades. "..." he doesn't say anything, and just looks around at the people watching. He saw flashes of fear, puzzlement, sympathy.

"Freak!" someone calls, and it sets off the murmurs. "He's so weird..." "He scares me..." "Attention whore!" Arthur closes his eyes, hands balling up into fists. What did they know about it? What did they care? He turns to walk out, when he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Ignore them." The voice was gentle, but firm. Not the sort to mess with, even if quiet. "I'll deal with it. Go take some time to rest." Arthur doesn't argue, and runs outside. He hears someone running after him, calling his name. "Leave me alone!" yells Arthur, trying to ignore it. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk to anyone. "Arthur! Stop! I want to talk to you!"

Arthur pauses, a brief tear running down his cheek. He brushes it away. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially not him. But the person catches up with him. "Arthur..." The voice was a louder, harsher version of the previous. It wasn't soft and gentle. But it still wasn't a voice to be messed with. "Go away," mumbles Arthur, "I don't want to talk to you." The person reaches out, hand brushing Arthur's arm. Arthur screeches, turning and lashing out. "Leave me alone!" he yells. His green eyes meet a pair of blue ones. A bruise now lay across the other's cheek. "Artie..." it came out as a whisper, "Artie, I just wanted to help you..."

Maia looks across to Feliks. "Hey, Feliks, who was that?" she asks. "Who was who?" replies Feliks, and Maia frowns. "The boy who yelled at the people calling Arthur a freak. I thought I recognised him," she replies. Feliks blinks, "uh...oh...Matthew. He's Alfred's brother, and Arthur's half brother. He would, like, look familiar; the three of them are in our art class." A brief flash of guilt went over Maia's face. "Oh...uh...I didn't notice," she mumbles. Feliks shrugs. "Not many people do. He's, like...totally not a noticeable person."

Matthew felt his spirit crumble. He wasn't a noticeable person. Even the new girl didn't know who he was, even though he always tried to talk to her, to everyone. A tear falls down his face. Why didn't people ever notice him? See him? He gets up and leaves the room. He passes his brother, and pauses. "A-Alfred...your face..." he whispers. Once again, his voice was only soft, no firmness in it. "Nothing...I, uh...I slipped. Watch those steps!" Alfred grins at him, and for a moment, Matthew is tempted to believe him. Then he shakes his head. "Don't lie to me," he mutters. "Dude, I'm not lying!" Too fast. An instant response. A lie.

"Don't lie to me!" yells Matthew, and for a moment, everyone turns to face him, "...don't lie, Alfred. I'm not stupid. I know what happened." He feels tears running down his cheek, so he turns and runs out, leaving Alfred alone. Alfred sighs, watching the people gradually turn, forgetting the incident. Like it never happened. He turns, head lowered, and goes to the bathroom. The empty bathroom. He rolls up his sleeve, revealing a silvery bar code on his arm. There were a few red lines, deep cuts that stretched across the scarred skin. "Don't lie," mutters Alfred. Don't lie. But that was all he ever did.

He leaves the bathroom with another deep gash across his arm. Another lie to pass off. To hope nobody saw through. To hope that nobody would see.

**Ok, there we go. I'll publish the next chapter during the week, ok? Now, I have to finish another chapter of Five Stages Of Grief…I forgot I had uploaded that one…heh…oops…**


	3. Chapter 3

**What's this? Another update? YES! :D Ahem, yes, I'm happy. Oh, and disclaimer (kinda forgot before…) I don't own Hetalia.**

**Warning: This is where it really begins to get graphic…**

Chapter 03: Scars That Don't Fade

Lovino was the only one home. His brother was probably out with that potato bastard and the skinny Japanese kid. His grandfather...well...he was out. Lovino didn't know where. He had finished his homework, and was now attempting to heat up some leftover pizza. He growls as the oven fails to do so. "Stupid shit!" he snaps, kicking it. He removes the pizza, eating it with a scowl. "Stupid fucking..." he sighs, not finishing his sentence as his phone rings. "Ciao..." he mutters, putting it to his ear. "Ciao. It's me. I'm staying with Ludwig tonight. Have you heard from Grandpa?" asks Feliciano. Lovino groans, "no...have you?" "Si." Well, of course he had.

"...Well?" he asks (demands). "Oh! Sorry. Grandpa says he's out tonight. He'll be back tomorrow morning though!" says the ever optimistic voice of Feliciano. "...Fine. Bye." Lovino hangs up without waiting for a reply. So he was alone. Again. Great. He groans, resting his head on the surface by the oven. He was not going to hurt himself. He was not going to cut. He was not going to do that again. Not this time. He sighs, running a hand through his hair briefly, not touching the sensitive curl. Reaching for his phone again, he dials a number in, putting it to his ear. "Hola!" says the voice at the other end. Lovino smiles slightly. "Ciao. I-" "I'm not in. So, uh...leave a message? Gracias!"

Lovino swears loudly, hangs up then chucks the phone across the room. "Fuck this," he mutters, storming upstairs to his room. It was mostly plain, the bare basics with a few textbooks thrown around the room. The only thing that stood out was a photo frame on his desk. He walks over, picking it up with a weak smile. It was two years old. Taken the day before...the accident. The photo was of five boys. Three in the middle, Lovino at one side and a shy violet eyed boy on the other. The three boys in the middle had; a blonde in the centre, hair touching his shoulders, a brown haired Spaniard and an almost albino with red eyes and a duck sitting on his head.

The almost albino had an arm around the violet eyed boy. Lovino was half glaring half smiling at the Spaniard, whose face was in an eternal grin. To this day, Lovino had never seen it otherwise. He sighs, suddenly feeling tears prick at his eyes. Soon it would be the anniversary of...the accident. He wouldn't ever forget. He couldn't forget. He drops the frame, glass shattering, and he sobs. He cries for as long as he feels able, for as long as...until he sees the shiny metal sticking out from under his mattress. He pauses, not daring to even breathe. His hand moves to his sleeve, tugging at it once, twice, three-four times, willing the urge to pass.

It doesn't. He screws his eyes shut, swears under his breath, and grabs the blade. He removes his trousers, revealing scarred skin underneath. Two weeks. A single slice. Blood drips out and Lovino watches helplessly. Two weeks, and time to start again. He makes another slice. And another. And-the phone rings. Lovino jumps, swearing as the blood spills. "Fuck...ciao! Who the fuck-oh, Antonio..." he pauses, remembering he called his friend earlier. "Lovi, are you ok? You sound...is something up?" Lovino sighs, rubbing his head for a moment before trying to find tissue for his leg. "I'm fine. Five by five. What the fuck do you care?" On the other end, Antonio flinches. "Lovi..."

Lovino hangs up.

Antonio sighs, putting his phone down. Lovino and he used to be so close. They were still friends, and close ones at that...but his friend was distant. All his friends were. He and Francis used to go out every other weekend. Doing everything or nothing, it was always fun. Of course, that was before the accident. But why was everyone still in a state of depression? Gilbert wouldn't have wanted that. It was the reason Antonio still smiled. The reason he still chatted to his friends, even made an effort to ask Matthew how he was. The reason that, so long ago, he hadn't jumped. He sighs again, and heads upstairs. Time to sleep, not to think.

Few people were getting sleep these days. In another house, a tall Russian was sitting in a small dark room. His bedroom. It was locked, and outside he could hear his little sister shouting. His older sister crying. His father hadn't come home for two weeks. His mother had threatened to kill herself. Ivan tried to tell himself he didn't care. He didn't care about a father who never looked at him. He didn't care about a mother who slapped her children. He didn't care about a big sister who was afraid to look her siblings in the eye. He didn't care about a little sister who went from high to low every few months. He didn't care about his family. His family with issues.

And if he did, he had a stash of...his coping mechanism...under a loose floorboard to turn to. He hears his sister shout again. "I'll do what I want! Don't tell me what to do!" Quiet voices. He couldn't hear them. "If you're one of them...I'll kill you..." Ivan whimpers, then crawls under his bed. He wanted a normal family. He loved his sisters - no! No, he didn't care...not about them...he bites his lip. He needed the drugs. The needles. He glances over at the loose floorboard. He didn't have a choice. He half ran to it. He pried it open when he heard his sister calling. "Big Brother...Big Brother, open the damn door!"

It would have to wait. He forces a smile, unlocks the door and hugs his little sister. "Big brother..." she murmurs. He did care. But he hated caring.

**Again, sorry for it being graphic…I'm writing this to work through some issues…so, yes…**

**I did warn you. And I'm warning you now, it gets worse.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Hetalia. Oh, and any song lyrics mentioned in this fanfic? Eh, I don't own those either!**

**Please enjoy. Next update will be next week.**

Chapter 04: A Step Too Far

"So, Maia...done the project yet? It's been two months. You said a week." Eduard's voice was accusing, but gentle. Maia looks up guiltily. "Uh...maybe I was overconfident..." she mutters, "but I did begin it..." Eduard nods, "we have time. I wasn't expecting you to complete it." Maia blinks in surprise, and Feliks laughs. She took things too literally. "If we split up the tasks...we can have it done within a month..." says Eduard, sketching up a table, "Maia...you continue what you started. And join up with Feliks-" The blonde looks up sharply away from his small wrist "-to do a video. Raivis can do the script. I can do the presentation and Toris has something in mind already." Raivis, Feliks and Maia glance at Toris.

"Um...it's a secret," he says quickly. Maia nods, whilst Feliks raises an eyebrow questioningly. The bell rings, and the class gets up to leave. "Hey, Feliks, we didn't have any art homework,did we?" asks Maia nervously. On the other side of the class, Lovino was shouting at Feliciano to get a move on. "Hurry up! I'd like to actually get to art this century, you know!" he snaps. His brother flinches. "Sorry..." he mumbles, and picks up the pace. "...Don't be," mutters Lovino, lowering his head. "Hey! Hurry up slow coaches!" calls Maia, her voice carrying across the classroom. "We're not slow!" Lovino quickly snaps back. Someone quickly adds, "they're Italian! So long as they're trying to get away from somewhere, of course they'll be fast!"

There were a few sniggers, as Maia and Lovino turn and glare at them. "Shut the fuck up!" snaps Lovino, grabbing his brother's hand, "come on, Feli, let's go." Maia nods, and then turns to the person who made the Italian comment. "And you can just piss off," she snaps. Lovino half runs out the room with his brother. Maia didn't know when enough was enough, and he wasn't going to stick around to get in trouble, or worse, beat up. "Like, where's Maia?" asks Feliks as they take their seats. "Probably still shouting at that stupid bastard," mutters Lovino. "Ve, she swore at them," explains Feliciano. Feliks groans, and gets up to go find her. "Don't. She never listens," mutters Lovino.

"Yeah...but I like, totally can't leave her. We're, like...BFFs!" insists Feliks, a grin over his face. Lovino snarls. "BFFs? What the fuck? Are you still in primary school?" he snaps. Feliks pulls a face, and Feliciano looks between them worriedly. "Please stop it..." he mumbles. Then Maia walks through the door, rubbing a bruised cheek. "Bloody idiota," snaps Lovino. She doesn't say anything, instead choosing to sit down and quietly continue her work. Lovino rolls his eyes and gets back to work, whilst Feliciano and Feliks exchange worried glances. "I'm fine!" insists Maia, "honest." He raises an eyebrow, then his stomach rumbles. He suddenly looks sheepish, and returns to his work.

Feliciano hesitates, still unsure. But he doubted anyone would listen to him. Even his best friends...no. He shakes his head. He wasn't going to think about that. He bows his head over his work, and continues as if nothing had happened. After class he dashes off to the lockers, leaving his twin clearly annoyed. "Idiota. What happened to 'wait for me Lovino wait for me!' " snaps Lovino, glaring at the rest of the (confused) class. "He probably just forgot," says Maia, "you know what he's like." The Italian scowls, but doesn't reply, mostly because he did know what his brother was like. As much as he loved him, Feliciano was incredibly scatterbrained.

Feliciano was running quickly in order to find Ludwig. Ludwig never spent long in the locker room, and neither did Kiku. Kiku didn't like the lack of personal space, and Ludwig just had a habit of leaving quickly. "Ludwig!" he shouts, seeing his friend. He runs over instantly, tackling the other in a hug. "Agh! Feli!" snaps the German, "I told you not to do that!" Someone sniggers as he gets up, scowling at Feliciano. "Sorry..." mumbles Feliciano, "but I didn't want you to leave..." Ludwig sighs, and smiles. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. I just wasn't expecting it." The Italian seems to cheer up, and follows his friends out.

After school, Lovino didn't wait for Feliciano. Not out of spite or not wanting to. He was just going to Antonio's house. The only other person they walked home with was Maia, who had told Feliciano she was going to visit Feliks. So he was alone. And that's when they started taunting him. Bullying him. "Faggot!" someone called as he hurried past, "whore!" The words stung. He always kept a smile. Always acted like the clueless, cheerful Italian everyone knew. But now, alone and vulnerable, how he really felt came out. The mask slipped. A tear fell. "Look at the crybaby!" And the group picked up the taunt. "Crybaby! Crybaby!"

So he ran. He hated them. They always picked on him when he was alone. Once they tried it with Lovino there. "Fuck off!" he had told them. They even tried it with Maia, who sent them such a glare that half scampered off and the other half fell silent. But now he was alone, walking over a bridge.

A bridge over a set of rocks and a river.

It was enough to kill him.

He knew it.

He had felt like this for so long.

For too long.

He stops, taking out a piece of paper and a pen. After a moment of thought, he scrawls a message, trying to keep his hand from shaking. He had thought of this before. Too many times, for far too long. Enough was enough, and he didn't know when he'd next have this opportunity. He puts the note in his pocket and climbs onto the bridge. "Goodbye...And I'm sorry, Lovino," he mumbles, then he steps off and falls onto the rocks below. His legs give way, one snapping under the force. Before the pain hits him though, his head hits the rocks and all he sees is black.

**Heh…told you it was going to get worse…though I feel bad for taking it out on Italy. *shrugs* Ah, it might get worse from here. But this is the end of the Introductory Arc. (Yes, this story has arcs, otherwise I'd never be able to balance all the characters! I never think these things through…heh…) But still. Next arc is the Italian Brothers' Arc. Song for this arc (Some of the arcs may have songs, depending on whether I come up with one) will be Never Too Late by Three Days Grace.**

**This author's note is really long…woops.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Another update~ I've now finished this arc, you'll be glad to know (I hope…) Anyhow…don't own hetalia…blah blah blah…insert technical details here…**

Chapter 05: Not A Moment Too Soon

"Want to watch a film?" Lovino looks up sharply at the voice. Antonio looks back, confused. "Yeah. Sure," mutters Lovino. "Are you ok?" "Yeah. Fine." "Are you sur-" "I said I'm fine dammit!" In all honesty, he wasn't. He had a very bad feeling. He also had an urge. Both put together was definitely "not fine." But he wasn't going to tell him that. So instead they picked out a film, and sat down with some popcorn. "This film is pathetic," mutters Lovino. Antonio sighs. "We can watch a different film!" he offers, but Lovino makes a comment about Antonio's films all being rubbish.

Then Lovino's phone goes off. He swears slightly, then answers it. "Yes?" he snaps. "Lovino!" It was his grandpa, out of breath and panicked, "Lovino, you have to come to the hospital..." The young Italian frowns, gripping his phone tight, "why? Grandpa, what's wrong?" he asks. His voice was barely more than a whisper. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. "It's your brother..." a shiver went down his spine, "he was hospitalised...he...tried to kill himself." Lovino paused, momentarily paralysed, trying to work that sentence through his mind. He tried to kill himself. His own brother. His little brother. He drops the phone in shock.

"Lovino?! Lovino!" Antonio picks up the phone quickly. "He's...a bit shocked. What happened?" asks the Spaniard, gently but concerned nonetheless. A few moments later, he said goodbye and hanged up. "...Lovino, I'm so sorry. Come on, I can take you to the hospital," he offers. Lovino nods slowly. "...Ok," he says quietly. "Let's go." He was scared. How had he not noticed his brother feeling like this? Why had he tried this? Was he really such a terrible brother? "It's not your fault." Lovino turns to Antonio, who looked at him with sincere eyes, "don't blame yourself." Lovino glares at him. "I'm not!" he snaps, and turns away.

"You're lying."

There was already three people at the hospital, not just the Italian's grandfather. Lovino recognised them. There was a skinny blonde, wearing a short skirt and fiddling with his wrist bone, and an auburn haired girl with dark shadows under her eyes, staring at the floor. "Feliks. Maia. Why are you two here?" asks Lovino curiously, walking over. Maia looks up sharply, then sighs. "We found him whilst walking home." Lovino freezes, tensing up. "...Lucky thing you got there in time," says Antonio, breaking the silence that followed. Maia and Feliks look away. Lovino understood. They too felt guilty. For not noticing. For not stopping him. For not getting there sooner.

"Do you, like, know why he...you know?" Feliks wasn't keen to say it aloud. Lovino hesitates, then shakes his head. "I know some people call him names," says Maia quietly, "I didn't realise..." Lovino finishes the sentence, "that it was that bad. No. Neither did I." He felt guilty. This was his fault! Why hadn't he noticed? Was he that bad a brother? All the questions he had asked himself before came flooding back. It was only broken by Maia's announcement that she'd be back in a minute. "Ok. Bye," says Antonio. "See ya!" says Feliks, trying to make the atmosphere a little less tense. It didn't work. In fact, it had rather the opposite intended effect.

"...When will we be able to see him?" asks Lovino anxiously. "Soon. It won't be long now," says his grandfather, as gently as possible. Antonio reaches for Lovino's hand, but he snatches it away. "I need the toilet," he lies, and half runs away. He didn't. His need was different. His need was for blood. For pain. For relief. He suddenly bumps into Maia, eyes red and cheeks puffy. "You look terrible." Alarm flares up in her tired eyes. "...You were crying, huh?" A flash of what looked like - relief? - flickers in her eyes for a moment before she nods. "Yeah...sorry...I mean, I didn't want to in front of you...since he was your brother..."

She trails off and Lovino flinches. "Yeah...thanks..." he mutters, then pushes past her. Yes. His brother. Who he let attempt suicide. What if things had gone differently, and he had actually died? The thought was too horrific to think about. He goes into the toilets, locking the door behind him. In his pocket, he had a small razor. He preferred his pocketknife but - dammit - he had left it at his house. He didn't bring that blood stained object to Antonio's. He crouches over the small basin, turning the water on. Lovino holds the blade close to his wrist, hand shaking. Then he slices it across, watching the blood trickle out, wincing a little. Another slice, deep and wide; more blood.

When he went back out, he had five long, deep cuts across his arm. And it still wasn't enough. It never would be.

He slouches beside Antonio, who remains silent. Maia and Feliks were gone. "Where did they go?" asks Lovino, only partly curious. "Home. They figured it'd be a bit much for Feliciano to have so many people in at one time," explains the Spaniard. Lovino nods, feeling dazed. "...Hey," Antonio breaks the brief silence, "do you remember...um...when Gil-" Lovino looks up sharply, eyes accusing for a brief moment, before softening. "Yes. I do."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 06: I See What You See

It had been an accident. Two years ago. Well, two years in about three days time. Matthew, Lovino, Francis, Antonio and...Gilbert. Lovino could remember it clear as day. Francis, Antonio and Gilbert had been best friends, going around as a trio. None were seen alone. Nobody really knew how it happened. Some had theories, but nothing was certain. Lovino and Feliciano had moved to the school a year and a half before the accident. Lovino remembered that his brother, despite being so worried about not making friends, had fitted in easily without a fuss. In fact, he had quickly formed close friendships, in particular with Kiku and Ludwig.

However, Lovino had struggled. Nobody wanted to be friends with the loud mouthed Italian. He was angry, tsundere, rude and made no effort to hide it. He was so different from his brother. And yet, Francis had taken an interest in him. In all truth, he had found it creepy. But Francis' interest sparked Antonio's offer. "Hey," he had said, "want to go out with us? We were gonna go have a pizza or something." A small offer. But it had changed everything for the Italian. Gilbert, Antonio and Francis had appreciated him. They enjoyed being with him. Lovino had finally felt happy about the move. And when Gilbert started dating Matthew, he had welcomed him into the group.

The five of them were close. And Gilbert had been the life and soul of the group. With him, they were chatty, eager, and they felt good. Until the accident. They had been hanging out, as usual, when someone had pushed past Matthew on the pavement. It would have been nothing. It could have been nothing. It should have been nothing. But Matthew had stumbled, tripped slightly. The wrong foot in the wrong direction...he fell. Gilbert helped Matthew up. In doing so, they seemed to switch places. Matthew on the pavement. Gilbert grinning at him on the road. "You should be more careful, Mattie." And then there was Antonio yelling, "car!"

And Gilbert was dead.

"It was a quiet road," mutters Lovino, "how come that drunk had to come down it?" Antonio sighs, and shrugs, looking wistful. "I have no idea. But I was just wondering what Gilbert would have said." Lovino glances at his friend. His brother had just attempted suicide. He didn't want to think about his friend. "He'd have blamed himself too, you know," says Antonio quietly, "...he wouldn't have said so...but he would have." And then the anger started to swell up inside Lovino. He tries to force it down. Nobody needed to be blamed! It was the fault of only two people - him, and his damn brother who chose to try and kill himself. He was willing to leave everyone behind. And Lovino hated him for it.

"You may come in now." The nurse was young, plump, with a thick mass of blonde curls. She leads them into a hospital room where Feliciano lies in a bed. He looks up at the trio as they enter and he pales. "My little Feliciano!" cries his grandfather, embracing him tightly, "you should have told me you were feeling this way! We could have worked something out!" Guilt surged through the boy. He should have. "Honestly, I'm just glad you're still with us. You gave us such a fright," says Antonio, as cheerful as he can manage. But he shouldn't be here. He had tried his best. Why was he still alive? He could remember waking up...so he had passed out as planned...someone must have found him.

He turns to his brother. "Fratello...?" he whispers, voice shaking. "I hate you," snarls Lovino, "I can't believe you. First our parents leave us, and then you decide it's ok to leave as well?" Leave. It was an empty word. But it meant more. Feliciano flinches, amber eyes watering slightly. "Lovino..." mutters his grandfather. "Don't start. It's true. He chose this. He wanted to leave us," mutters Lovino. Shame was beginning to rear it's ugly head. Why was he saying all this? He had just started. He hadn't meant to! Dammit, his brother had been suffering enough. He didn't need him to start having a go at him as well! "I...I..." Lovino turns and runs out the room.

Feliciano's lip was trembling. But he wasn't going to cry. No, he refused. Not in front of the others. Not again. He averts his gaze and hears Antonio leave, calling for Lovino. He doesn't listen to his grandfather. He just wants to curl uo and finish what he started. Now everyone was going to hate him. Lovino and Antonio, Ludwig and Kiku...even Feliks and that new girl. They would all hate him. Lovino wasn't alone in that. Maybe they already hated him. He was a crybaby, a whore, a faggot. For not the first time, he felt like he really was who they said he was. Or what they said he was. If his brother hated him, then, well, he deserved it...right?

"Lovino!" Antonio wasn't a fast runner. "Lovi, please! Stop!" Lovino wouldn't. "Lovino!" Finally the Italian turns around to face Antonio. He says nothing, instead opting to glare at his friend instead. "...I know you don't really hate him." "I do." "No you don't. You're worried and angry, and you're blaming yourself..." Lovino grabs the nearest thing to him - a potted plant - and throws it at the Spaniard. "Stop it!" he yells. Everyone turns to stare. "Stop pretending you know how I feel! Stop pretending that I'm blaming myself! I blame him, not me! He could have told someone and gotten help! But he decided not to!" He didn't bother to pause for breath.

"He had a choice! And he made it!"

**Heh…poor Feli…:( No real comment for this…sorry for a short wait!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 07: Cuts That Dig Deep

Feliciano was out of the hospital a couple of weeks later. He was different. He felt different. And not in a good way. He had lost a bit of weight, which Feliks had put down to a high metabolism. Lovino couldn't help but note a tinge of jealousy in his voice. But Lovino didn't think much of it. Everyone knew the blonde was conscious about his weight, after all. School was different for both Italians. People avoided eye contact, would stop trying to partner up with them. Feliciano's once large circle of friends was now reduced to just Kiku and Ludwig. Out of a grudging thankfulness, Lovino had stopped calling Ludwig a potato bastard, which had shocked more than just the German.

Lovino kept to himself, but Antonio often tried to break through the self imposed barrier. Their Art class were also friendly. Matthew would make a point to say hello and ask them how they were doing (sometimes they noticed). Nataliya would pass a quick, brief smile at Feliciano every now and then, and even Ivan would come over and ask how they were. Feliks and Maia tried their best as well, and Lovino couldn't help but notice that out of all four of them on their table, Maia was the only one returning Nataliya's smiles. "She isn't smiling at you," he mutters, and she nods. "Yeah...I know," she says quietly, and then doesn't press the issue.

School seemed to be settling back to normal. But Lovino's life didn't. His grandfather got sick suddenly, and had to go into hospital, leaving Lovino and Feliciano alone. Feliciano was often at Kiku or Ludwig's house, leaving Lovino dangerously alone. Oh, he'd try to distract himself, try to be good. He'd do his homework, tidy up (Feliciano was wondering why Lovino was so eager to clean these days), make elaborate pasta dishes for meals. But sooner or later he ended up cutting. The deepest was about half a centimetre deep, as a result of his guilt when Feliciano told him about what people were now calling him at school.

He fingers the long gash running up his thigh. His brother was called a freak, an emo, told him to go slash his wrists. They threw things at him, shouted and swore. One kid went up to him with a rope and told him to hang himself. That day, his brother went home in tears. Lovino handles the blade carefully. Today the cause was not guilt, but anger. He was angry that people didn't see what they should. Did nobody notice the bruises that Alfred seemed to miraculously gain overnight? Oh sure, he had excuses if you asked, but Lovino didn't buy them. And the scale was large. It went from serious things to minor things. Nataliya and Maia, for example. How could he have not noticed?

A slice across his leg. Blood trickles down his thigh. "Fuck," he mutters, catching it with a tissue. He hadn't meant to annoy her. He hadn't intended to insult her. It was a simple thing - he had said, "I'm not even sure if bisexuality exists." And Maia had glared at him. "Excuse me, but I'm bisexual. Are you saying I don't exist?" It was luck of the draw. She was in one of those moods. Had it been any other time, he might have got away with it. But she had to make a scene. So he ran, angry and upset. It explained a lot. He had sort of assumed she was straight, but there was the smiles at Nataliya...the offer of sitting with them at lunch the other day. It was subtle, but it was things she'd never do otherwise.

Not to mention, Tyler had been spreading those rumours...apparently they were true.

And now he had insulted her. Another slice. The door opens and he panics. "Hey, Lovi. I know you're in here." What the hell was she doing here?! "This is the men's toilets!" he yells, "what the fuck are you doing here?!" Maia doesn't seem to hear. If she does, she doesn't care. "Look, I shouldn't have made a scene. I'm sorry." Why was she apologising? He cuts across his skin again, making the slightest of noises. A pause. "Lovino, what are you doing?" He takes a sharp intake of breath. Did she know...? "Lovino, open the door, please." "No fucking way!" She was stupid if she thought he would, "get out! You shouldn't fucking be here!" He could hear her swearing under her breath now as well.

Then they hear someone yelling. "Suicidal freak! Go die!" It was followed by a familiar sobbing that tugged at Lovino's heart. "Shit..." Maia leaves, and Lovino then hears, "get back here you little bastards!" Well then, they were in trouble. Maia wasn't strong usually, but she could punch hard if she was angry enough, and she was a bit scary when angry as well. She'd fly off the rails. It freaked Lovino out, not that he'd dare say so to anyone. He sighs, stopping the bleeding then pulling his pants up. He didn't want anyone else to realise something was up. Though Maia would probably forget it - she had the memory of a goldfish. Lovino smirks. Her annoying qualities were now useful qualities.

But as he looks in a mirror he thinks. He hated this, yes, but he couldn't stop. In fact, did he really want to stop? Maybe not. But maybe he did. Maybe he hated the scars, hated the need, hated the pain and secrets and lies. He wanted to forget about it. To stop, never do it again. But he couldn't. He needed it. He was dependent on it. Without it, he was certain that he'd go off the deep end and do something stupid like his brother. And he didn't want to die. He just wanted to cope with life. What had started as small pinches to cope with Gilbert's death was now deep cuts, an obsessive need that he had to fulfil on an almost daily basis.

He hated it.

**AN: Bleugh...don't like this chapter. I think it went ok though.**

**With the last bit, I was trying to get across Maia's more annoying parts. Everyone has good and bad parts to them. One of her bad parts is her short term memory:**

**Goldfish memory...**

**Goldfish 1: Oooh look, a castle.**

**Goldfish 2: What's a castle?**

**Goldfish 1: Dunno, why d'ya ask? **

**Goldfish 2: Ask what? **

**Goldfish 1: Hey look, a castle.**

**Random joke. Hope it amused you. I'll end now.**


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